


Radiant

by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead



Series: Color Theory [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, Itachiyama!Oikawa, Iwaizumi is a setter-seducing cactus, M/M, Shiratorizawa!Iwaizumi, Soulmate AU, everything is happy I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_My_Characters_Are_Dead/pseuds/All_My_Characters_Are_Dead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi has dated a lot of setters, but none of them have ever left the swirling colors of their souls on his skin. None of them have ever been his soulmate.<br/>The annoyingly talented and attractive Oikawa couldn't possibly be the exception to that, couldn't possibly be Iwaizumi's soulmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Juniper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trashcan_Kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashcan_Kitty/gifts).



A cheer rose from the stands as Itachiyama’s setter dumped the ball over the net, the volume only increasing when Shiratorizawa’s libero shouted as he missed the ball by mere centimeters. The noise reached deafening levels as one of Shiratorizawa’s wing spikers dove, getting to the ball just before it hit the ground. The ball went up, and Shiratorizawa’s setter shot a smirk at Itachiyama’s before turning. 

“Wakatoshi!” the setter called out. With barely a glance at his teammates, gaze fixed on the ball, the ace surged forward. The setter tossed the ball; the ace connected. 

“Oikawa!” The ball shot toward Itachiyama’s setter, and for a second, the crowd was silent, breath held as it looked like he would get it. And he did, but the ball went right to the other side of the net. 

“Hajime, direct hit!” Shiratorizawa’s middle blocker shouted. The wing spiker who had stopped the dump attack jumped with all his might, and slammed  the ball. 

The crowd erupted, screams and cheers echoing around the gym, drowning out the whistle that marked the point, the end of the set, and the match. Itachiyama’s setter stood, frozen, staring at the player who had stopped his dump attack, then scored the final point and won the match for Shiratorizawa. 

“Hajime!” Shiratorizawa’s players descended, their red-haired middle blocker nearly bowling him over as their setter slapped him on the back, and their libero beamed. 

“Iwa-senpai, that was amazing!” The players who had been on the sidelines crowded around, chattering excitedly. Oikawa glared at the celebrating players for a long moment, then turned away, fighting back his emotions. He had to take care of his team, make sure his ace got a change of clothes and his mask quickly now that the match was over. He refused to look over his shoulder at Shiratorizawa again. 

Across the net, Shiratorizawa’s wing spiker, Iwaizumi, ducked his head to avoid Tendou and Semi ruffling his hair. Yamagata laughed and threw an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, shouting congratulations in his ear before stepping away and sliding his arms around Kawanishi’s waist instead. Kawanishi ducked his head before Yamagata could pull him down, pressing a quick, celebratory kiss to the libero’s mouth. Orange blossomed across Kawanishi’s lips, and soft blue-gray appeared on Yamagata’s to mirror it. 

“Hey, no soulmate stuff on the court!” Tendou complained. Before Yamagata or Kawanishi could defend themselves, their ace spoke. 

“Well done, Iwaizumi,” Ushijima congratulated his fellow wing spiker, who blinked up at him for a second, then laughed. 

“What are you, his boss?” Tendou snickered. Iwaizumi shook his head, while Ushijima blinked in confusion at Tendou. 

“Let’s line up before the coach yells at us,” Semi urged, his arm brushing Ushijima’s as he turned to lead the way. Where their skin touched, a flat, dull purple spread across Semi’s skin, and the same shade of electric pink Semi had dyed the tips of his hair that week appeared on Ushijima’s skin. The team lined up, thanked the referees and their opponents for a good game - it had been close, until halfway through the fifth set - then headed for their bus. 

“Hajime,” a familiar voice called. Iwaizumi dropped back, away from his teammates. Yamagata caught Iwaizumi’s eye and waved for  him to go on, but not to take too long. Iwaizumi nodded to show he understood, then turned to the person who had called his name. 

“Keiji?” Iwaizumi tilted his head. “Who’s this?” he asked, glancing at the person standing beside Akaashi, who Iwaizumi vaguely recognized but couldn’t put a name to. 

“Remember at the last training camp, when I told you I found my soulmate?” Akaashi asked. Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, and then he grinned. 

“This is him?” Iwaizumi guessed. In response, Akaashi took the hand of the boy beside him. Pale green spread over Akaashi’s hand where the other’s fingers twined with his, and blue frost patterns formed over his soulmate’s skin in return. Iwaizumi inclined his head in greeting, and Akaashi’s soulmate returned the gesture. 

“This is Daishou Suguru. He’s going to the same university you are,” Akaashi told him. Iwaizumi suddenly realized where he’d seen this person before. 

“You’re the captain of the team Nekoma faced to get their spot at nationals,” Iwaizumi exclaimed. He glanced at their joined hands, then at Akaashi’s face. “This guy is your soulmate? Don’t Bokuto and Kuroo both hate him?” Akaashi shrugged and tightened his grip on Daishou’s hand, watching Iwaizumi’s expression carefully. Iwaizumi recognized Akaashi’s nervous posture and smiled. “I’m glad you two seem to have worked things out. I’ll keep an eye on him for you while we’re at university, okay?” The tension leaked out of Akaashi’s shoulders, and while Daishou kept his polite expression, his eyes widened slightly. “I have to catch up to my team. Text me if you need anything, okay, Keiji?” Akaashi agreed, and Iwaizumi turned in the direction his team had gone. As he walked away, he overheard Daishou’s and Akaashi’s conversation. 

“You didn’t tell me he called you ‘Keiji,’” Daishou said. 

“I told you we had a fling during a training camp, and he’s still a good friend,” Akaashi replied. “Which is why I wanted you to meet him. You’ll get along with him at college, won’t you?” Iwaizumi didn’t hear Daishou’s response, because the voices of two more people calling his name caught his attention. 

“Hajime!”

“Iwa-senpai!” 

Iwaizumi scanned his surroundings and found Shirabu barreling his way, while a setter from another team, Miya, also hurried  toward him. Iwaizumi started to greet them both, but Shirabu tripped and tumbled into Miya; both setters went down with a chorus of yelps. Iwaizumi sighed and made his way to them, holding one hand out to each of them. 

“Hi, Iwa-senpai,” Shirabu muttered as he took Iwaizumi’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. 

“What a rude kouhai you have, Hajime,” Miya complained as he also allowed Iwaizumi to help him up. Iwaizumi opened his mouth to defend Shirabu - yes, he could be a brat, but he tripped, it wasn’t like he slammed into Miya on purpose - and froze, staring at Miya’s cheek. There was a violet handprint there, bright against his skin. Iwaizumi grabbed Shirabu’s wrist and lifted his hand, the palm of which was covered in swirling gold and green. Iwaizumi burst out laughing, much to the confusion of both setters.

“You’d better get used to his attitude, Atsumu,” Iwaizumi chuckled, twisting Shirabu’s hand so Miya could see the colors on the younger boy’s skin. Miya’s eyes flew wide, and his head whipped around as he gaped at Shirabu, who noticed the violet handprint on Miya’s face and squeaked. “Congratulations, you two,” Iwaizumi said. “Atsumu, you should give your congratulatory kiss to my rude kouhai.” Miya made a little choking sound, and Shirabu looked like he might fall over as he realized just who he had bumped into and was apparently soulmates with: Miya Atsumu, who had been seeing Iwaizumi off and on throughout the last six months. Iwaizumi, still chuckling, continued in the direction of the rest of his team, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t take too long, Shirabu.” Iwaizumi was still laughing to himself when he reached the bus where his team waited. He took the seat beside Yamagata, behind Tendou, remembering that after one too many bus rides spent trying to ignore Yamagata and Kawanishi’s enthusiastic post-win make-out, the whole team had agreed not to let the two sit beside each other. The fact that it was the usually-reserved Kawanishi who seemed intent on painting as much of Yamagata’s face and neck with the colors of their soulbond as possible just made it that much more unfortunate for the rest of them to sit through. 

“What took you so long, Hajime?” Tendou complained, flopping dramatically over the back of the seat, arms dangling, to stare at Iwaizumi. “And where’s Shirabu? Did you lock him in a closet?”

“Something like that,” Iwaizumi admitted, settling into his seat. Tendou’s eyes widened comically, but before he could ask, Iwaizumi added, “I didn’t see Koushi anywhere. Did he not come today?” Tendou glared at him. 

“If you could stop calling one of my soulmates by his given name, that would be great,” Tendou glumbled. “And Koushi and Tetsurou are meeting the bus back at the school. Tetsu spent the night at Koushi’s because Nekoma got eliminated yesterday.” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, which Tendou took as an invitation to keep talking about his soulmates, chattering about Sugawara and Kuroo as though Iwaizumi wasn’t very, very familiar with Sugawara and increasingly - unfortunately - familiar with Kuroo. 

“How long do you think it’ll be before he notices you’re not listening this time?” Yamagata whispered, grinning when Iwaizumi shrugged. 

“Who knows? He’ll see them both when we get back, so he’ll either talk the whole way home or start daydreaming soon,” Iwaizumi replied calmly. 

“Sorry I’m late!” Shirabu squeaked, tumbling onto the bus and falling into the seat across the aisle from Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi gave the second year setter a flat look, raising both eyebrows at the gold and green swirling on his lips. 

“I take it you and Atsumu are getting along better now,” Iwaizumi commented. Yamagata nudged Iwaizumi questioningly, and the wing spiker shot him a look that promised an explanation later. 

“I...think so?” Shirabu stared blankly at the back of the seat in front of him. “I wasn’t sure what to say, so I kind of...kept squeaking? So...he said he’d give me a reason to be speechless and kissed me? And then wrote his number on my arm?” 

“Well, the colors will fade soon, so you should hurry up and put it in your phone,” Semi advised. Shirabu bristled, scowling at the older setter as the bus pulled away. 

“He’s right. The longer you’re together, the longer the colors will last, but since this was your first time leaving colors on each other, they’ll fade quickly,” Yamagata said. 

“How long you’re in contact also matters,” Tendou piped up, having apparently given up chattering about his own soulmates to listen to the discussion of Shirabu’s. 

“That’s why, tomorrow when we change into our uniforms for the game, you’ll see lots of copper and red  _ all over _ Satori,” Semi teased. Tendou flushed and scrambled to redirect the conversation. 

“At least I’m getting some tonight, as opposed to Iwaizumi, whose victory lap through Miya’s bedroom just got snatched by Shirabu,” Tendou pointed out. Shirabu blushed furiously, his face matching Tendou’s hair as he turned away, trying to hide his embarrassment. 

“You’re the worst senpai ever,” Shirabu muttered. “Besides, unlike you, Iwa-senpai doesn’t need a soulmate bond to get someone to sleep with him.” 

“That’s enough,” Oohira broke in, reaching over the back of Shirabu’s seat to rest a hand on top of his head. Shirabu grumbled wordlessly and hunched his shoulders. Tendou opened his mouth, but Oohira cut him off. “Satori, don’t make me come over there.” 

“I was just going to tell him his colors are fading,” Tendou assured him. When Shirabu saw that Tendou was right, he yelped and scrambled for his phone. By the time he had opened a new contact page  to enter the number, however, the golden and green swirlings on his skin had faded too much to be readable. For a long moment, Shirabu stared down at the last bits of color on his skin, caught between despair and disbelief. 

“Shirabu,” Iwaizumi said, pulling his own phone out. Shirabu looked up, blinking quickly. No one dared mention anything about the way his eyes were starting to fill with tears. “Here. Atsumu’s phone number.” He held the phone out to Shirabu, displaying one of his contacts. Shirabu gaped at him for a second, then lunged across the aisle, grabbing the phone and hurriedly copying the number into his own. 

“Iwa-senpai, you’re the best,” Shirabu breathed, quickly typing out a message to Miya. 

“Benefits of having your soulmate be one of Hajime’s setters,” Tendou mused. 

“You would know,” Semi taunted. Iwaizumi reclaimed his phone from Shirabu and tuned out his teammates. 

“So Shirabu and Miya, huh?” Yamagata murmured as Iwaizumi shifted, trying to get comfortable in his seat. 

“Apparently,” Iwaizumi replied. There was a pause, and then he chuckled. “Atsumu had this light purple handprint on his face. He and Shirabu ran into each other - literally - and I guess Shirabu hit him in the face somehow.” Yamagata bit his lip to keep from laughing loud enough to attract their teammates’ attention. “Hey, Hayato?” Yamagata blinked at the sudden seriousness in Iwaizumi’s voice. 

“Hm?”

“Think we’ll get assigned as roommates?” Iwaizumi asked. Yamagata was quiet for a second. 

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I mean, I know they try to put team members together, but I think they don’t like putting people from the same high school in the same room. So it’ll depend on what other first years there are, probably.”

“If my roommate is horrible, can I come hide in your room?” Iwaizumi pleaded. Yamagata snickered. 

“Sure, Hajime. You can sleep under my bed.”

“What will I do when Kawanishi visits you?”

“Cover your ears?” Yamagata suggested. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and shoved at Yamagata’s shoulder playfully. While he hoped he would get to room with his best friend, rooming with a stranger couldn’t be that bad, right?


	2. Basil

Rooming with a stranger would have made Iwaizumi’s day, he thought as he stared at the tall, beaming brunette putting up fucking  _ alien posters _ on the wall when Iwaizumi opened the door to his new dorm room. 

“No fucking way in hell,” Iwaizumi spat, glaring at none other than Oikawa Tooru, the former setter for Itachiyama and the most annoying, arrogant asshole Iwaizumi had ever seen play volleyball. And yes, he was counting Ushijima, although that wasn’t really a fair comparison, because while Ushijima grated on Iwaizumi’s nerves sometimes - a lot of times - he was a good, steady teammate, and they’d gotten along fairly well during their third year. 

“Ah, Iwa-chan! I think you have the wrong room, I’m waiting for an  _ Iwaizumi _ Hajime, not Iwa Hajime,” Oikawa chirped. Iwaizumi considered launching the suitcase he was carrying at Oikawa’s head. 

“My name is Iwaizumi,” he snapped. “Is that why you decided to call me Iwa-chan when you started calling Wakatoshi ‘Ushiwaka’ and Eita ‘SemiSemi’? Did you actually think my name was just Iwa?”

“Well, with your horde of adoring kouhai screeching about Iwa-senpai…” Oikawa shrugged. Iwaizumi turned around and stomped out. Yamagata’s roommate hadn’t arrived yet when Iwaizumi left him at his room down the hall. Iwaizumi would just move in with Yamagata, and Yamagata’s roommate could live in Oikawa’s room instead. 

“Hayato, guess who my fucking roommate is,” Iwaizumi complained as he walked in the open door of Yamagata’s room. 

“Your least favorite setter?” Yamagata guessed from where he was trying to shove his volleyball gear under his bed. 

“How did you…?”

“There's only one person who could get that kind of reaction out of you,” Yamagata replied. 

“What kind of reaction?” a voice behind Iwaizumi asked. He turned and found Daishou standing in the hall, carrying a box. 

“Saying ‘fuck’ angrily instead of appreciatively,” Yamagata answered. Iwaizumi glared at him. “What? You have a type. Admit it.”

“Fuck you, Hayato,” Iwaizumi grumbled. 

“Nah, you know I’ve got Taichi,” Yamagata replied. 

“I'm definitely going home on the weekends, then,” Daishou commented. Iwaizumi blinked, then realized why Daishou would care if Yamagata was dating. 

“You're Hayato’s roommate?” Iwaizumi asked. Daishou nodded, and Iwaizumi moved aside to let him into the room. “I'll switch you.” Daishou raised an eyebrow and carried his box inside. 

“Who's yours?”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi and Yamagata answered together. Daishou blinked. 

“Really? I thought he'd be your type,” Daishou said as he set the box down. 

“I don't have a type,” Iwaizumi protested. 

“Yes you do,” Daishou and Yamagata chorused. 

“Setters,” Yamagata added. 

“Pretty setters,” Daishou put in. They eyed each other for a second, then appeared to decide they approved of each other and simultaneously nodded. Iwaizumi shook his head. 

“Doesn't matter how pretty they are if their personality is shit,” Iwaizumi grumbled. “And you know Oikawa is all fake and gaudy and smiles just for show.”

“Sure, sure,” Yamagata agreed, having heard the same thing from Iwaizumi before. “So, are you going to stand there with your suitcase, or are you going to help us unpack and set up?”

“Or you could, you know, go talk to the  _ one _ setter with whom there hasn’t been a rumor about you dating,” Daishou pointed out. Iwaizumi scowled at them both. 

“He was putting alien posters on the wall.  _ Alien posters, _ Hayato,” Iwaizumi complained. Yamagata laughed. 

“Then you’d better go put up your Godzilla ones,” the libero replied, snickering. Daishou stared at Iwaizumi for a long moment.

“How,” Daishou demanded. “How have you been rumored to have dated so many people when you have  _ Godzilla posters _ you’re going to hang in your dorm room?”

“Oh, who have you heard about him dating? I always wondered how closely the rumors matched the truth,” Yamagata said eagerly. 

“Well, Keiji told me they had a training camp fling,” Daishou started uncertainly. Iwaizumi sighed and almost left the room, but he didn’t really have anywhere else to go besides his own room, where the dreaded Oikawa Tooru was. “I heard there were several Miyagi setters. Mini-something?”

“Moniwa,” Yamagata supplied. “Dated their Second year. Next.”

“Seijou’s setter?” Daishou tried. 

“Yahaba.  _ And  _ his soulmate Kyoutani, who is  _ not  _ a setter. Next,” Yamagata replied. 

“Karasuno’s setters? The team that made it to the Miyagi finals this year?” Daishou asked. 

“Sugawara, the third year, yes. Kageyama, the official setter and first year, no,” Yamagata answered. “I think that’s all the Miyagi setters he’s dated.”

“So nothing with Shiratorizawa’s setters?” Daishou asked, apparently either morbidly curious about how many setters besides his own soulmate had been with Iwaizumi or just intent on embarrassing Iwaizumi into leaving them to unpack in peace. 

“I don’t date teammates,” Iwaizumi snapped. 

“He and Eita kissed once in middle school on a dare,” Yamagata piped up helpfully. Iwaizumi hid his face in his hands. 

“Wait, so if you don’t date teammates, does that mean Oikawa doesn’t have a chance of being your next favorite setter?” Daishou asked. 

“Well, since Miya apparently found his soulmate during the national tournament, the position of Hajime’s Favorite Setter is currently open, even though Miya’s been his fallback since first year,” Yamagata mused. “But I think his ‘no teammates’ rule trumps his desire to...what was it you said the first time you saw him across the net, Hajime? Something about wanting to-”

“Don’t you dare,” Iwaizumi interrupted. “I’m going, okay? But if I find out you so much as breathed in a way that finishes that sentence, I will tell Kawanishi every single embarrassing thing you’ve done or said since we met. Including all the stuff you said about him before you found out he was actually your soulmate.” Yamagata paled and shook his head. 

“I always forget how scary you can be,” he muttered. Iwaizumi huffed and stalked out of the room, heading down the hall to his own. He paused outside the door, gathering his courage. Yamagata’s mention of the first time he’d seen Oikawa triggered his memory of the event, the beauty in the way he served, the careful precision in the way he tossed, and the grace in the way he set. The first time he’d seen Oikawa, he’d wanted to try hitting the brunette’s toss, but he’d also wanted to wipe the smug smirk of his face, right along with the empty, forced smile Oikawa had sent toward the cheering crowd. Possibly by smacking him. Well, definitely by smacking him. But also - even more appealingly - by kissing him. What Iwaizumi hadn’t wanted was to wipe those expressions away by defeating Oikawa’s team, even in a practice match like the one they’d been playing. Shiratorizawa had crushed Itachiyama that day, and when Oikawa walked off the court with tears of frustration in his eyes, Iwaizumi wanted to comfort him. 

Until, of course, Oikawa’s apparent fans clustered around him, and the tears vanished, replaced by that hollow grin that they all seemed to believe was real. Then Iwaizumi kind of wanted to hit him again. 

Oikawa’s movements, so smooth and elegant, had been the start of Iwaizumi’s string of relationships with setters, because he’d seen a different but somehow similar grace in each of the setters he’d been with in high school. 

It really wasn’t fair of Yamagata to remind Iwaizumi of that.

“Iwa-chan, where did you run off to?” Oikawa’s voice chirped behind him. 

“Fucking hell, you’re evil  _ and _ a ghost!” Iwaizumi yelped, whirling to find Oikawa carrying another box down the hall toward their room. 

“Iwa-chan has a potty mouth,” Oikawa replied primly, marching past him and trying to open the door with one hand without dropping his box. Iwaizumi sighed and reached around him to open the door. “Such a gentleman,” Oikawa muttered, tone laced with sarcasm. “Is this how you woo all the pretty setters? Run away and then open doors for them?” Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched, but he kept his tone even as he replied. 

“Are you going to go in, or just stand there until you drop that?” he asked. Oikawa huffed and carried his box inside. Iwaizumi wondered if it was too late to change roommates. Or schools. 

“Iwaizumi!” a familiar voice called before Iwaizumi could follow Oikawa into their room. Iwaizumi turned toward the voice and grinned. 

“Kuroo, hey. Koushi didn't tell me you were coming here,” Iwaizumi greeted him. Kuroo shrugged, grinning.

“Bo and I are both here,” Kuroo replied. “And we’re roommates.” Iwaizumi shook his head. 

“Of course you are. Remind me to stay away from your room,” he chuckled. “Knowing you two, it might catch fire.” 

“Akaashi already threatened us both with bodily harm if we do anything that might endanger Daishou,” Kuroo grimaced, his tone turning sullen as he said Daishou's name. 

“You're going to have to get used to him being around,” Iwaizumi pointed out. “Since he's going to be on the volleyball team with us.” 

“You don't understand,” Kuroo grumbled. 

“I understand better than you think,” Iwaizumi replied. “Oikawa is my roommate.” Kuroo's eyes widened. 

“Itachiyama's Oikawa? Sakusa’s Oikawa? The one prominent setter our age that you haven't banged?” 

“I can hear you, you walking hairball,” Oikawa shouted from inside the room. A moment later, Oikawa stuck his head out of the room and added cheerfully, “And if you so much as  _ think _ about spreading rumors about me, I will end you.” Kuroo and Iwaizumi exchanged wide-eyed glances as Oikawa disappeared back into the room. 

“Dude. No wonder,” Kuroo whispered. “He's kind of terrifying.” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You were scared of that?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“Iwaizumi. Dude. You dated Koushi. You're  _ not  _ scared of a setter who smiles while promising to destroy you?” 

Now that Kuroo mentioned it, maybe he had a point.


	3. Emerald

Kuroo was right. Iwaizumi should be terrified of Oikawa. The man wasn’t human.

Two weeks into the semester, and Oikawa managed to go to all of his classes and did all of his homework - as far as Iwaizumi could tell, anyway - and still worked harder than anyone in practice, all while staying out til all hours of the night. Iwaizumi wasn't sure what Oikawa was doing when he stayed out until after Iwaizumi was asleep, but when Iwaizumi woke up in the middle of the night, with Oikawa slipping back into the room, having showered to hide whatever he was up to, he couldn't help but wonder if Oikawa was indulging the flocks of girls who followed Oikawa everywhere. 

Iwaizumi grimaced and pulled his pillow over his head. If Oikawa wanted to sleep with his fans - why else would he be out so late? - it wasn't Iwaizumi's business. As long as Oikawa’s performance at practice didn't decline, Iwaizumi couldn't really say anything, and if anything, Oikawa’s performance was steadily improving. 

On the court, Oikawa fit himself easily into the team, no matter which players he worked with. Iwaizumi quickly learned that the tosses that had gone to Sakusa and the rest of Itachiyama were tosses he could trust, whether he got along with Oikawa or not.

On the court, with Oikawa beside him instead of across the net, Iwaizumi caught glimpses of a different version of his roommate.

On the court, Oikawa’s concentration was an asset rather than a threat, and the way he teased his teammates, which had seemed almost arrogant from the outside, was a way for him to gauge how each player was doing that day and maintain the atmosphere he wanted. 

Iwaizumi had known that Oikawa was a talented setter, but his gaudy personality had always made Iwaizumi keep his distance, resisting that traitorous voice in his head that told him it would be worth it to get closer to him. But now, he wondered if maybe that was the point. Did Oikawa used his flirtatious and taunting ways to keep people at arm’s length? Though Why he would feel the need to do that, Iwaizumi had no idea. 

Daishou, meanwhile, kind of wished Oikawa would keep  _ him  _ at arm’s length. Instead, Oikawa had apparently decided that since Daishou’s soulmate was one of Iwaizumi’s exes, Daishou was the person Oikawa should complain to about Iwaizumi. 

“It’s just not  _ fair _ ,” Oikawa whined, flopping down in the chair beside Daishou's in their floor’s study lounge. Apparently Oikawa's complaints weren't limited to during or after practice anymore. “I mean, he walks around shirtless like he doesn’t realize how completely  _ amazing _ his abs are.” 

“So you’re still thirsting after your hot roommate, who definitely has a thing for setters, but who you insist you don’t have any interest in, despite threatening to kill that cat idiot to try to keep him from spreading rumors?” Daishou sighed. “Good to know.” 

“I’m not interested in him!” Oikawa insisted.

“Sure you’re not. You only whine about how hot he is and how he doesn’t seem to like you  _ every day  _ after practice,” Daishou scoffed. “And now you’re even bothering me with it outside of practice.”

“I refuse to become just another setter he slept with,” Oikawa snapped, apparently ignoring Daishou’s comment. Daishou paused and studied Oikawa’s expression, taking in the pouting tilt to his lips and the stubborn set to his jaw. 

“You don’t really think Iwaizumi just...fucks people and then ditches them, do you?” Daishou asked. Oikawa hesitated. “Look. Being roommates with his best friend has - unfortunately - taught me quite a bit about his past. The Seijou couple he had a thing with just wanted to spice up their sex life or some shit and he obliged them. He broke up with the Dateko setter because he found his soulmate. Same with the Karasuno setter. And with Keiji, even though they haven’t been together for a while, Iwaizumi is still friends with him, and he actually threatened me. He reminded me that if I hurt Keiji, he knows where I sleep now.” Daishou shuddered. “That guy is scary, and he seriously cares about the guys he dated.”

“Still,” Oikawa huffed. “I don’t want to -”

“Except you totally do,” Daishou interrupted. “And if you could admit that you like him, you two could move forward instead of being stuck in this ridiculous limbo.” Oikawa opened his mouth to protest, apparently highly offended, but then paused. 

“What do you mean by that? What ridiculous limbo?” Oikawa asked. 

“You two work together creepily well on the court,” Daishou replied. “Doesn’t matter where he is, how he jumps, whatever toss he needs, you give it to him. I mean, yeah, you handle Bokuto, and Kuroo is less annoying when you’re there to keep him in check. But you and Iwaizumi are scary in sync, without even trying. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two had grown up playing volleyball together. And then the moment you step off the court,you two hardly talk to each other, even though you live together. It’s painful to watch, honestly.”

“Well, if it brings you pain, Scales, I’m all for it,” Kuroo announced, smirking as he and Bokuto entered the study lounge.

“Is that why you keep that ridiculous hairstyle that makes it look like you’ve got a hairball on your face?” Daishou sneered, regretting his decision to do his homework in the study lounge. Yamagata had gone home for the weekend, so Daishou had the room to himself. He could have done it there. But no, he'd decided that to concentrate, he should work in the lounge and get everything done before Akaashi, who was going to stay for the weekend, arrived. Now, not only Oikawa, but Kuroo and Bokuto had also cornered him. Kuroo opened his mouth to retort with his usual level of pent-up resentment, but Daishou cut him off. “Anyway, I thought you were really frustrated with Iwaizumi and Oikawa and their refusal to admit they like each other, too.” 

“Scales has a point, bro. You were just saying that this trip back to Miyagi will hopefully make Iwaizumi realize he misses Oikawa when they’re not around each other,” Bokuto piped up, nodding sagely. Kuroo glared at him. 

“Wait, hold up. Iwaizumi hates me,” Oikawa snapped. “He’s probably celebrating right now.” Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged disbelieving glances, and Daishou sighed. 

“Iwaizumi hates how you waste time flirting and staying out until all hours of the night,” Daishou corrected. 

“Yeah. He complains all the time that you keep getting better even though you hardly sleep, and he’s pretty sure you’re off entertaining whatever girl caught your eye for the day,” Kuroo added, shooting a loathing glance at Daishou as though it made Kuroo physically ill to agree with him on anything. Oikawa gaped at them. 

“You...what does he think I’m doing when I’m out late? Fucking every girl who giggles at me?” Oikawa shrieked. “And why does he even care? Hasn’t he switched to liberos now?” For a long moment, the others were silent. Then they all appeared to come to the agreement that Oikawa was beyond help, and they would be moving on with their lives. 

“I would explain the complexities of the emotions and beliefs of a setter-seducing cactus to you, but honestly I spend too much time hearing about said cactus already, and I don’t want to keep talking about him,” Daishou announced as he glanced at his phone. He had a text from Akaashi, letting him know that his soulmate would be arriving shortly. “So I’m going to go now. I have better things to do.” 

“You mean Akaashi?” Kuroo asked, eyes narrowed. Bokuto’s expression lit up. 

“Akaashi is coming this weekend?” he exclaimed. 

“Yeah, to see  _ me, _ not his feather-brained former captain,” Daishou replied sharply, gathering his homework as quickly as he could. It could wait until the end of the weekend, after Akaashi left, anyway. “And don’t you dare follow me!” he added as Kuroo and Bokuto started to follow him toward his room. 

“But we want to see Akaashi, too,” Kuroo protested, pointing to Bokuto, who suddenly looked rather droopy. He sniffled, and somehow the ridiculous spikes of his hair seemed to wilt. Daishou hated those spikes with a passion. “Look, you’re breaking a poor owl’s heart,” Kuroo chided, patting Bokuto on the shoulder comfortingly. 

“I don’t care. You two will kidnap Keiji and I won’t get to see him,” Daishou snapped. 

“You’re awfully cold-blooded, Scales,” Kuroo mused. “Does Akaashi know how cold you are?” 

“Why couldn’t you have gone with Iwaizumi and Yamagata to Miyagi?” Daishou groaned. “You could have witnessed Yamagata and his soulmate being mushy.”

“But here, we get to witness your pitiful attempts at serpentine mating rituals,” Kuroo replied. 

“Wait, Yamagata knows his soulmate?” Oikawa blurted out, having apparently joined the parade following Daishou to his room. “But I thought…”

“Yeah, we got it from the libero comment. You think Iwaizumi and Yamagata are a couple. You’re wrong. And I’m moving on with my life, now, thanks,” Daishou informed the setter before ducking into his room and closing the door behind him. It was going to be a long, long weekend.

* * *

 

Iwaizumi stepped off the train and was nearly knocked off balance as Kawanishi rushed past him - the most motivated to move quickly Iwaizumi thought he’d ever seen Kawanishi, actually - to seize Yamagata’s hands and pull him off to who knew where. Iwaizumi shook his head and glanced around to see if Kawanishi had come alone or just ditched his teammates. Goshiki and Shirabu stood a short distance away, Goshiki waving enthusiastically over the crowd and Shirabu scowling beside him. Iwaizumi grinned and made his way over to them, stopping when he realized who was standing next to them. Apparently, Miya had decided to visit his soulmate this weekend, too. 

“Iwa-senpai!” Goshiki called, waving his arms even more. Iwaizumi laughed as Shirabu jabbed Goshiki’s side, making the taller boy yelp and flinch away. Iwaizumi reached them and started to stretch up to ruffle Goshiki’s hair, but stopped and put his hands on his hips instead, scowling. 

“You grew,” Iwaizumi accused. Goshiki ducked his head apologetically. 

“Sorry, Iwa-senpai,” Goshiki said dutifully. 

“No you’re not,” Iwaizumi grumbled, turning to Shirabu and Miya, who had entwined their fingers while Iwaizumi was talking to Goshiki. “I’m glad you two seem to be getting along well,” he commented, nodding to the colors spreading over their joined hands. Shirabu looked away, hiding his embarrassment, only to accidentally reveal the side of his neck, which bore a lingering redness that was almost covered by a fading but still present swirl of gold and green. “Atsumu, you’re making sure the two of you are doing things safely, right?” 

Shirabu’s cheeks burned crimson as Miya blinked, then laughed. 

“Yes, Hajime, don’t worry. I wouldn’t hurt him,” Miya promised. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I promise, your precious kouhai is safe with me.”

“Maybe it wasn't Shirabu I was worried about,” Iwaizumi replied. Shirabu let out an offended little noise that made Miya grin. 

“Aw, missing me already?” Miya teased. 

“I miss every setter except Oikawa,” Iwaizumi replied.

“Aw, is he not as pretty as he looks from across the net?” Miya asked. 

“I bet he's just as insufferable as he seems,” Shirabu mused. 

“He’s my roommate,” Iwaizumi said, ignoring their comments. 

“So you’re definitely banging him, right?” Miya said with a smirk. Goshiki let out a terrified squawk, leaning away from the others like he was ready to bolt. “I mean, he’s totally your type.” Iwaizumi scowled at him. 

“You know I don’t date teammates,” Iwaizumi reminded. “Now, Shirabu, Goshiki, there’s practice tonight, right? If the coach doesn’t mind, I might drop by and see how the team is doing.”

“We need the help,” Shirabu replied. “Goshiki is our best spiker now, so we’re in serious trouble.” 

“Hey!” Goshiki yelped indignantly. Iwaizumi chuckled. 

“Is he still inconsistent with his receiving?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“I’m right here,” Goshiki whined. 

“We know. That’s the problem,” Shirabu replied sharply. 

“No bickering,” Yamagata announced, reappearing with Kawanishi at his side. They each bore each other’s colors on their skin, concentrated on their faces and necks. “Hajime and I need to drop our bags off at home before practice, so we should get going.” Goshiki nodded enthusiastically, eager to escape Shirabu and Iwaizumi’s discussion of his apparent shortcomings. The others followed, Miya dropping back to walk with Iwaizumi. 

“So you never actually said you weren’t banging Oikawa,” Miya observed. Iwaizumi tripped over nothing and nearly fell. 

“Atsumu!” he hissed. “I told you, I don’t-”

“You know, some people do have sex without dating first,” Miya replied. “Just because you prefered to get to know people and cared about them before you took your dancing horizontal doesn’t mean you can’t have some casual sex in college.” Iwaizumi frowned at him for a long moment before sighing and adjusting his grip on his bag as an excuse to look away. 

“I’m pretty sure Oikawa would be up for casual sex, since he’s out til all hours of the night doing god knows what,” Iwaizumi admitted. “But I’m not about to have a one night stand with anyone, especially not a teammate, especially not my setter, and  _ certainly _ not when he’s my roommate on top of all of that.”

“The roommate thing would just make it that much more convenient,” Miya pointed out impishly. Iwaizumi groaned and shifted his weight, shouldering Miya so the setter almost stumbled into the wall. “Hey! Rude! Kenjirou, Hajime is being mean to me, when I’m just being honest!” Miya complained. 

“Iwa-senpai, please don’t hurt my soulmate,” Shirabu called over his shoulder. “But Atsumu, you should know better than to provoke Iwa-senpai.” Miya sped up and threw his arms over Shirabu’s shoulders, flopping against the younger setter’s back. Shirabu yelped and stumbled. “Atsumu!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Miya informed him. 

“You’re supposed to be more mature,” Shirabu countered sourly. 

“And here I thought you two would have less public physical affection than Kawanishi and Hayato,” Iwaizumi sighed. Miya shot Iwaizumi a devilish look. 

“Come on, Hajime. You know me. Did you really think I wouldn’t be all over cute little Kenjirou here?” Miya asked. Before Iwaizumi could ask, Miya turned his attention to Shirabu. A second later, Shirabu squeaked and leaped out of Miya’s hold, one hand coming up to his neck, not quite fast enough to hide the swirling gold and green streaking up his nape. Iwaizumi shook his head and tried not to think about what his ex-boyfriend had done to leave that streak of color on his kouhai’s skin. He also didn’t allow himself to wonder what color Oikawa’s soulmate would leave on his skin.


	4. Shamrock

Daishou was done with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and their horrible limbo. A weekend apart hadn’t made them miss each other. The weeks since Iwaizumi’s trip back to Miyagi hadn’t changed their interactions much. Oikawa still seemed convinced that Iwaizumi and Yamagata were dating. Iwaizumi still seemed to think that Oikawa was out sleeping around when he didn’t get back to their room until the middle of the night. 

Daishou wondered if maybe he should tell them that they were both wrong. But it was their business, right?

Until it wasn’t.

“I swear, if you  _ ever _ tell me you want to fucking  _ lick Iwaizumi’s pecs _ ever again, I will personally neuter you and then throw volleyballs at your head until you get a concussion and forget Iwaizumi exists,” Daishou hissed, lifting from his stretch and glaring at Oikawa, who blinked at him innocently. 

“But Sugu-chan, I put up with you talking about how pretty Akaashi is,” Oikawa whined. 

“Keiji is my  _ soulmate, _ we’re  _ dating. _ You can’t even admit to Iwaizumi himself that you’re interested in him,” Daishou snapped. “You’re so worried about not being another setter he’s seduced that you don’t even realize how  _ thirsty _ you sound.”

“Did our precious setter forget his water bottle?” Kuroo asked, walking up. “I hear a nice bite of cactus can quench your thirst if you’re desperate enough.” 

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with a man whose hair is at war with his face, but seriously,” Daishou grimaced. Kuroo shot Daishou a lethal glare, but Daishou ignored him. “I have an idea. Why don’t we get all the first years together?”

“The snake is suggesting  _ team bonding _ ?” Kuroo gasped. Daishou’s jaw clenched. 

“All the first years except the fleabag,” Daishou amended. 

“Hey! I want in on this! I’m just as sick of the cactus and the idiot dying of thirst as you are!” Kuroo protested. 

“I’m busy,” Oikawa said. “No time for whatever is horrible enough for you two to agree on.” 

“You can go one night without whatever you do when you’re supposedly not sleeping around,” Kuroo informed him. “Come on. I’ll bring Bo, Scales will bring Yamagata, and Yamagata can drag Iwaizumi. It’ll be fun.” 

“Don’t leave me with Hairball Face,” Daishou put in. “You owe me after I’ve listened to you drooling over Iwaizumi all semester.” Oikawa’s brow furrowed as he searched for a way out. 

“I will have Bokuto follow you around if you don’t agree,” Kuroo threatened. Oikawa gaped at him, horrified. 

“He’ll get depressed and whine about how I obviously don’t care about him,” Oikawa protested. “You can’t do this to me!”

“He can and he will,” Daishou countered firmly. “He’s a cat; he’s cunning and ruthless.” 

“And Scales won’t stop me, because he’s a cold-blooded snake,” Kuroo added. Oikawa stared at the two of them, usually at each other’s throats but now presenting a unified and rather terrifying front. 

“Fine,” Oikawa huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine, you win. I’ll join. What are you two even planning?” Daishou and Kuroo exchanged wary looks. 

“Promise you won’t ditch us when you find out?” Kuroo asked slowly. Oikawa scowled.

“He can’t admit his own thirst for cactus juice. He might back out,” Daishou mused. “Maybe you should have the owl follow him anyway.” 

“You two don’t even have a plan, do you?” Oikawa accused. “Just tell me when and where to show up. If you can manage to cooperate long enough to agree on anything, that is.” With that, he turned and strode toward the rest of the team, who were finishing their own stretches. Daishou and Kuroo hesitated, eyeing each other warily. 

“Truth or dare?” Kuroo suggested finally. 

“Truth or dare,” Daishou agreed. “This has to end. Here, ten o’clock?”

“Sounds good. Coach trusts you, for some unfathomable reason. You get the keys to the gym,” Kuroo replied. 

“Kuroo! Daishou! Quit dawdling!” the coach hollered, ending their conversation.

* * *

 

“If you two are agreeing on anything, this won’t end well,” Iwaizumi announced as he walked into the gym, followed by Yamagata, who had insisted Iwaizumi attend. Kuroo and Daishou, already inside, exchanged resigned glances.

“Desperate times,” Kuroo grimaced as Daishou nodded in agreement. 

“Bokuto, I said I was going to be there! You don’t have to-  _ Kuroo, you bastard!” _ Oikawa shrieked as he was actually carried into the gym by Bokuto, who had apparently decided to ensure Oikawa’s cooperation by hoisting the setter over his shoulder. “You promised you wouldn’t set the owl on me!”

“Actually, he never promised that,” Daishou replied, smiling innocently. “That’s the trouble with cats, you see. They’ll make you  _ think _ you’ve gotten your way, but they’ll just do whatever they want.” Before Kuroo could reply, Daishou added, “Everyone sit down. We’re going to play truth or dare.” 

“I’m leaving,” Iwaizumi announced, turning toward the door. 

“It can’t possibly be worse than the time Satori convinced us all to play last year,” Yamagata objected, catching Iwaizumi’s wrist and pulling him away from the door. 

“Hayato, Goshiki nearly caught fire from embarrassment, Eita tried to murder Satori, and Shirabu had to buy new kneepads,” Iwaizumi countered. “And with Daishou and Kuroo working together on this, it could definitely be worse than that.” Still, he reluctantly allowed Yamagata to drag him to where Bokuto was depositing a very unhappy Oikawa on the floor. Iwaizumi sat only to realize he was beside Oikawa when Kuroo, Daishou, and Bokuto rounded out the circle. Oikawa’s gaze settled on Yamagata’s fingers still wrapped around Iwaizumi’s wrist for an instant before the setter looked away. 

“Since this was their idea, Kuroo or Daishou should go first,” Oikawa said sourly. Kuroo shrugged. 

“Sure. I’ll choose truth,” Kuroo replied easily. 

“Coward,” Daishou taunted. 

“Yeah, how is truth interesting?” Bokuto complained. Iwaizumi and Yamagata exchanged a knowing look. 

“Hajime?” Yamagata prompted. Iwaizumi nodded. 

“I got this. Kuroo, did you find your soulmates because Satori groped your ass in the showers during a joint training camp?” Iwaizumi asked innocently. Kuroo spluttered and leaned away from the others, shaking his head vigorously. 

“No way. I’m not answering that,” Kuroo snapped, cheeks flushing.

“The penalty is twenty suicide runs if you refuse a truth,” Daishou piped up with a smirk. 

“I never agreed to-” Kuroo’s protest died on his lips when he saw everyone around the circle nodding their own agreement. “Fuck you all,” Kuroo spat. “Yes, that’s how I found out Koushi and Satori are my soulmates. I fucking hate you.” 

There was a long moment of utter silence, and then Oikawa burst out laughing. “Shut up,” Kuroo hissed. “At least I’ve found my soulmates.” Daishou opened his mouth to taunt Kuroo, but the middle blocker beat him to it. “Scales, truth or dare?”

“I’ll take dare,” Daishou decided. 

“Penalty is fifty suicide runs if you refuse a dare,” Kuroo warned. Daishou shot his enemy a sour look but sighed in resignation. Kuroo appeared to take a moment to decide what he should dare Daishou to do. 

“Kiss Iwa-chan,” Oikawa piped up before Kuroo could make up his mind. Kuroo and Daishou both seemed disturbingly pleased with that - after all, getting Oikawa to think about Iwaizumi and kissing was kind of the point of all this - until Oikawa added, “With tongue.” Kuroo cackled and Daishou paled. 

“Keiji won’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Iwaizumi said, shrugging when everyone focused on him. “I’ll ask if you want.” Daishou didn’t have a chance to agree or protest before Iwaizumi pulled out his phone and tapped away at the screen . “Hey, Keiji, can I make out with your boyfriend for a dare?” Iwaizumi read off as he typed. Daishou’s eyes widened, and he swayed a little where he sat. Yamagata had to steady him. Iwaizumi’s phone buzzed a second later, and Oikawa didn’t wait for Iwaizumi to read the message, instead leaning sideways to peer at the screen for himself. 

“Apparently Sugu-chan’s soulmate is a better kisser than Iwa-chan, or he was the last time they kissed,” Oikawa announced. “So he’s not worried about Iwa-chan stealing Sugu-chan from him.”

“Akaashi doesn’t have to worry anyway,” Yamagata replied. “Hajime has a type, and wing spikers don’t fit that type.” Daishou glanced at Iwaizumi’s phone, where Akaashi’s text still showed on the screen. Iwaizumi slid the phone into his pocket, forcing Daishou to turn his attention elsewhere. Daishou glanced around at the others, who were watching with varying levels of amusement, interest, or both. Oikawa wasn’t looking at Daishou. Instead, the setter’s attention seemed to be fixed on Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s eyes widened, and Daishou jerked his attention back to Iwaizumi, who had leaned forward onto his hands, then apparently decided that crawling was the best way to cross the space between himself and Daishou. Daishou watched uncertainly as Iwaizumi settled in front of him and tilted his head expectantly. 

“Hey,” Bokuto muttered. “You two should kiss.” Kuroo gave him a high five, and Bokuto grinned.

“I’m going to go owl hunting,” Daishou announced, glaring at Bokuto. Iwaizumi reached out, palm settling gently against Daishou’s cheek. He turned Daishou toward him and brought their lips together before Daishou registered what Iwaizumi was doing and froze.

“Don’t forget the tongue, Scales,” Kuroo prompted. Daishou tensed further. Iwaizumi huffed, seemingly in irritation, and pulled back so there was enough space between their mouths for the others to see Iwaizumi’s tongue darting out to trace the seam of Daishou’s mouth. Daishou shivered, a little gasp of surprise escaping him. Iwaizumi dove forward, taking the opportunity. The tension drained from Daishou’s muscles as Iwaizumi licked into his mouth, sliding his tongue between Daishou’s parted lips easily. Iwaizumi must have done something, because Daishou let out a soft whimper and leaned into the kiss. 

“I think that counts,” Oikawa announced, trying to ignore the  _ completely coincidental _ heat in his cheeks as he wondered exactly what Iwaizumi had done with his tongue to make Daishou go limp and then actually whimper. “Even if that was more Iwa-chan kissing Sugu-chan than the other way around,” he added, attempting to sound like he wasn’t imagining Iwaizumi’s tongue in his own mouth. From the smirk Kuroo sported, Oikawa was afraid he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his thoughts. Iwaizumi returned to his spot, his knee brushing Oikawa’s as he settled into place. 

“Oikawa,” Daishou said, voice slightly strained as though he was forcing it not to shake. “Truth or dare?” Oikawa considered for a moment, then shrugged. 

“Dare,” he answered, his usual confidence returning. 

“I dare you to cut Kuroo’s fringe off,” Daishou smirked. Kuroo threw himself backwards, scrambling to escape before Oikawa could accept the dare and find something to cut his hair with. 

“That’s cruel, even for you, Scales,” Bokuto objected. 

“Well, I guess I’ll pick something else. Getting rid of that rat’s nest would only reveal more of that idiot’s ugly face, anyway,” Daishou mused, backing down far too easily. Oikawa eyed the wing spiker warily, wondering what he had in mind that he would give up the chance to borderline maim Kuroo. “Oikawa, I dare you to hold Iwaizumi’s hand for the rest of the game.” Oikawa frowned; this was way too easy. Holding hands was nothing. Sure, it would be embarrassing, especially if Iwaizumi pulled away, but Oikawa could think of much, much worse things. After a few seconds, though, he couldn’t see anything too horrible happening because of him holding Iwaizumi’s hand. 

“Quit using me for dares, guys,” Iwaizumi grumbled, holding one hand out to Oikawa. “I’m not a toy.” The witty comment - something along the lines of Iwaizumi not complaining about kissing Daishou - died on Oikawa’s lips as his palm touched Iwaizumi’s, their fingers twining together easily, naturally, like they’d been designed to fit together. A warm tingling spread over his skin everywhere Iwaizumi’s touched, and when Oikawa stared down at their joined hands, he saw deep, steady blues and greens slowing over his skin. Bright turquoise spread over Iwaizumi’s skin in return. 

“Holy shit,” Bokuto whispered. 

“I guess Iwaizumi wins the game,” Daishou mused. 

“You can’t win truth or dare,” Kuroo protested, their temporary alliance apparently over. 

“You sure about not wanting to update your favorite setter list?” Yamagata asked, staring at the colors swirling over their joined hands. Yamagata’s words jerked Oikawa out of the trancelike state he’d fallen into. Oikawa scrambled to his feet, tugging his hand away. Iwaizumi’s fingers tightened, the wing spiker apparently unwilling to let go. Oikawa stared down into Iwaizumi’s astonished and maybe slightly hopeful gaze. 

“I’m not some...some prize! I’m not just another pretty setter for you to fuck with,” Oikawa hissed, successfully pulling away this time as Iwaizumi released him like he’d been burned. 

“Oikawa,” Daishou objected. “That’s not-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Oikawa hissed. “Is this what tonight was about? You all trying to get Iwaizumi a new ‘favorite setter’?”

“Of course not!” Kuroo snapped. Oikawa snorted derisively and turned on his heel. “Oikawa!” 

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi called. When the setter didn’t respond, he tried, “Toor-”

“Don’t you fucking  _ dare _ ,” Oikawa snarled, whirling on Iwaizumi before he even finished the name. “Just because  _ this _ -” he waved his still-colorful hand in the air “-happened doesn’t mean you get to call me by my name.” Oikawa stormed out of the gym, leaving the others staring after him, except for Iwaizumi, whose gaze dropped to his hand, where Oikawa’s brilliant turquoise still stained Iwaizumi’s dark skin. 

“Go after him,” Yamagata urged, elbowing Iwaizumi to emphasize his words. Iwaizumi didn’t move. Instead, he curled his fingers into a fist, hiding most of Oikawa’s colors. 

“No. He needs space,” Iwaizumi said firmly. He lifted his head and glared at Kuroo and Daishou. “What the fuck, guys? Please tell me this wasn’t some elaborate plan to get Oikawa and me together.”

“We wouldn’t do that,” Kuroo answered immediately. “I mean, Scales might, but I wouldn’t.”

“As if I would cooperate with Kuroo over  _ your _ love life,” Daishou snorted. 

“You two are terrible liars,” Iwaizumi informed them as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Hayato, can I stay in your room tonight? I want to give Oikawa time to calm down.” There was uncertainty in Iwaizumi’s eyes, something the others weren’t used to seeing. 

“Yeah. You want to walk back together?” Yamagata asked. Iwaizumi shook his head. 

“I think I need to take a walk first. Meet you there?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“Let yourself in; we didn’t lock the door when we left. I’ll find somewhere to put my roommate for the night,” Yamagata added, ignoring Daishou’s indignant noise. “Oh, go take a train and see Akaashi or something,” Yamagata told him, poking Daishou’s side. Daishou perked up at that. “You can tell him how you and Kuroo got along to make Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s relationship worse somehow.” Daishou wilted. Iwaizumi got to his feet, ignoring the rest of the conversation as he made his way out of the gym. He paused at the border between the light spilling from the door and the darkness of the night. Iwaizumi took a deep breath, debating where to go. 

There was an outdoor volleyball court set up at the community center just off campus. He could go there and practice until his mind went blank. Of course, before he reached that point, he would probably be thinking about Oikawa, especially with a volleyball nestled in his still-turquoise palm. 

He didn’t have a better plan, though, so he turned toward the community center, pushing his hands into his pockets to hide Oikawa’s colors on his skin.

Iwaizumi was so focused on not thinking about Oikawa that he didn’t notice the familiar sounds of someone hitting a volleyball, slamming it to the floor, until he reached the court and realized the lights were already on. Iwaizumi’s gaze caught on a ball as it shot through the air, hitting the ground with a satisfying - and intimidating, and familiar, why was that? - sound. Iwaizumi followed the path the ball had taken back to the person who had served it over the net and was preparing to serve another. 

Oikawa.

Oikawa tossed the next ball into the air, ran forward, leaped. His back arched as his arm went back and then snapped forward, palm connecting perfectly with the ball as easily as it always did, sending it careening over the net. 

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi breathed. Oikawa landed, caught sight of Iwaizumi, and froze. 


	5. Seafoam

Oikawa shook off his surprise and turned to the bin of volleyballs beside him. He wasn’t going to acknowledge Iwaizumi. He wasn’t going to wonder why Iwaizumi was there. He wasn’t going to wonder if Iwaizumi had come to find him. He wasn’t going to think about Iwaizumi at all.

Oikawa picked up another ball and spun it in his hands. He was so focused on ignoring Iwaizumi that he didn’t notice the wing spiker approaching until Iwaizumi scooped a ball of his own out of the bin. Oikawa waited to see what he would do, spinning the ball in his hands.

Iwaizumi hefted the ball in his palm, then tossed it. Oikawa watched silently as Iwaizumi surged forward and then into the air, muscles shifting visibly as he served the ball over the net. Oikawa saw the lingering turquoise on Iwaizumi’s hand and wondered what it would look like spread all over his body. Iwaizumi landed and frowned as he turned toward Oikawa.

“Aren’t you going to practice?” Iwaizumi prompted. Oikawa shook himself out of his reverie and stuck his tongue out at Iwaizumi.

“You’re the one who interrupted me. First Sugu-chan and the others hijack my usual practice for their stupid plot, and now you’ve invaded my secondary practice place,” Oikawa huffed. Iwaizumi, his hand still stained in Oikawa’s colors paused in reaching for another ball.

“Usual practice?” Iwaizumi repeated incredulously. “So instead of staying out messing around with your fangirls until all hours of the night you’re practicing?”

“Wait, you actually think I just-”

“That’s dangerous!” Iwaizumi interrupted. “Fucking hell, Tooru.”

“Hey! You can’t just start using my name like that!” Oikawa protested.

“Do you do this every night you’re out late?” Iwaizumi continued as if Oikawa hadn’t spoken.

“So what if I do? Does that ruin your image of me as the irresponsible playboy?” Oikawa snapped.

“Not at all. You still flirt constantly and don’t act responsibly,” Iwaizumi retorted. “You can’t just practice constantly, asshole. You’re going to get hurt, and then what will the team do? If you were sleeping with every person on campus that only affects you. But if you practice yourself into the ground then everyone is affected. You can’t just do that.”

“I can’t believe you actually thought I’ve been fucking around all semester, and now that you find out I’m not, you’re mad at me!” Oikawa shouted. “And you _still_ don’t get to just...just use my name because of _this_!” he added, holding up his hand, still swirled with Iwaizumi’s deep blues and greens.

“What else was I supposed to think? You’ve certainly got the looks to have anyone you want,” Iwaizumi pointed out. “And the reckless personality to back it up.”

“I am not reckless!” Oikawa insisted.

“What do you call supposedly staying out til all hours of the night, then?” Iwaizumi demanded. “Whether for sex or practice, you need more sleep!”

“Why should you care? Because I’m your soulmate or whatever, _now_ you suddenly care what I do? You’ve hated me all semester!” Oikawa snarled, using his height to his advantage as he glared down at Iwaizumi. The wing spiker set his jaw stubbornly.

“You’re an idiot,” Iwaizumi spat. “I don’t hate you.” Until the words left his mouth, Iwaizumi hadn’t quite realized they were true, but they were. Oikawa’s eyes widened as Iwaizumi continued, “You’re the best setter I’ve ever played with. Playing against you in high school was always so infuriating because of the way you kept your team together, no matter what. Every time our teams faced off you had something that was better than the last time. Playing on the same team as you made that amazing instead of frustrating. You and your damned fans still piss me off, but you’re my teammate. I would never hate you. If anything, you’re the one who hates me, because you seem to think I just...collect setters like prizes or some shit. I _dated_ them, you moron. I _loved_ them.”

“How can you say that? You broke up with every single one, sometimes after just a week!” Oikawa snapped.

“Because they kept finding their soulmates, and their soulmates were never me!” Iwaizumi roared, fists clenching. Oikawa took a half step back. “Kaname and I met at the beginning of our first year. We started dating a year later. Neither of us had found our soulmates, and we cared a lot about each other, so we gave it a try. Within six months, he found Azumane, and we broke up. Through Azumane, I met Koushi. He found one of his soulmates as soon as I introduced him to my friends and Satori nudged him after some stupid joke. Shigeru knew I liked him, but he had already found his soulmate, so they invited me to join them for a bit. But there’s no room for a third that isn’t meant to be there, so that only lasted one night. Keiji was a friend I slept with at the start of third year during a joint training camp, only for him to find Daishou right after that. Atsumu and I were together until he found his soulmate, too. So, yeah, my relationships haven’t lasted, but it’s not because I was just using them for sex or whatever you seem to think of me,” he finished, voice growing progressively quieter. Oikawa studied him for a moment before replying, the silence weighing down on them both.

“What are you, then? Some kind of soulmate catalyst?” the setter joked, trying to relieve the pressure of the moment. Iwaizumi shrugged and reached for a new volleyball.

“You want to joke? Just like you always do? Fine. Joke, flirt, I don’t care,” Iwaizumi sighed, studying the ball in his hands.

“But you do care.” Oikawa’s voice was soft, as though he had just realized something momentous. “Underneath that prickly cactus scowl, you care a lot, don’t you?” Iwaizumi looked up from the ball and glared at Oikawa.

“Something wrong with that?” Iwaizumi demanded. Oikawa shook his head, then tentatively reached out, his fingertips hovering just over Iwaizumi’s.

“I’ve been thinking about how someone like you could possibly be my soulmate,” Oikawa admitted.

“You’re not the only one,” Iwaizumi snorted. His gaze swept over Oikawa, taking in the tension still tightening his shoulders, the way his feet shuffled against the court. “I guess we both thought the worst of each other, huh?” Oikawa nodded, his hand still not quite touching Iwaizumi’s skin. The setter’s fingertips almost touched Iwaizumi’s wrist, then jerked back for an instant before trying again. Iwaizumi dropped the ball, and both of them ignored it as it bounced away in favor of tentatively lacing their fingers together. Bright, hopeful turquoise spread over Iwaizumi’s hand even as vibrant royal blue stained Oikawa’s. “You know, when we first met, through that whole first match, I couldn’t help but admire you. But when I saw that awful fake smile of yours when your fans surrounded you afterwards…it made me want to wipe that expression right off your face. But everyone I’ve been with since then has reminded me of you somehow.” Oikawa gaped at him incredulously.

“You’re saying you became a setter-seducing cactus because of me?” Oikawa blurted out.

“Setter-seducing cactus?” Iwaizumi repeated, confusion evident in the way his brow furrowed. Oikawa didn’t answer, appearing deep in thought.

“You don’t date teammates because you don’t want to put the team at risk if there’s an argument or a break-up, right?” Oikawa said after a moment.

“Yeah…?” Iwaizumi tilted his head curiously.

“Well, with this...” Oikawa glanced pointedly at their still-joined hands, then lifted his gaze to meet Iwaizumi’s. “With this, it would be worth the risk, right?” Iwaizumi studied him solemnly.

“We were both apparently very wrong about each other,” he conceded after a few heartbeats. “I suppose we could try to get to know each other as we really are, at least.” There was a pause, and then he added, “Let’s clean up and go get ice cream or something.”

“You know,” Oikawa mused as he moved to collect the volleyballs he’d served over the net earlier, “I thought you and Yamagata were dating.”

“What? No way. Hayato’s my teammate, he’s got his soulmate, Kawanishi, and he’s not exactly my type,” Iwaizumi pointed out. Oikawa shot him a mischievous smirk.

“And what type would that be?” Oikawa teased. Iwaizumi held up his hand, still covered in Oikawa’s colors.

“Gaudy, annoying, overworking, pretty setters, apparently,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. Oikawa let out a little squawk of protest at the words ‘gaudy’ and ‘annoying,’ but fell silent and bent to pick up another ball, hiding a faint blush when Iwaizumi continued. “Hey, Oikawa?” Oikawa straightened, a volleyball in each hand, and realized that Iwaizumi had closed the distance between them. Oikawa stared down into Iwaizumi’s determined eyes and resisted the urge to gulp nervously.

“Yeah?”

“May I kiss you?” There was no hesitation in Iwaizumi’s voice. His gaze, brown flecked with green that mirrored the colors he left on Oikawa’s skin, stayed fixed on Oikawa’s, searching for permission. Oikawa broke eye contact long enough to glance at Iwaizumi’s lips, parted slightly in anticipation.

“Yeah,” Oikawa answered. “Yeah, that would be… uh…” He fell silent as Iwaizumi reached up, rested his palms against Oikawa’s cheeks, framing his face gently. Dark, nervous teal spread over Iwaizumi’s hands, covering the brilliant turquoise from earlier, even as Iwaizumi’s deep, steady greens and blues hid the blush darkening on Oikawa’s cheeks.

“You talk too much,” Iwaizumi informed him before guiding Oikawa down for a kiss, their colors swirling between them, making their skin tingle faintly and staining their lips at the first touch.

For a moment, they stayed like that, Iwaizumi stretching up and Oikawa leaning down, their eyes closed as they savored the moment, the soft warmth of each other’s mouths. When Iwaizumi finally settled back, allowing distance between them and dropping his hands, Oikawa chased him, ducking his head a little farther to capture Iwaizumi’s lips with his own again. Iwaizumi chuckled into the kiss, surprised and pleased by Oikawa’s eagerness. Oikawa straightened with an offended huff. Instead of explaining, Iwaizumi rose onto the tips of his toes to kiss Oikawa’s cheek. With each touch, the ghost of the tingling sensation grew stronger, signaling that the bond between their souls was settling into place and strengthening.

Iwaizumi’s eyes darted from one patch of color on Oikawa’s face to another, from his cheeks to his lips and back, with a rush of satisfaction that caught him off guard. Oikawa looked good with his colors staining his skin, Iwaizumi decided. Iwaizumi lifted one hand, brushed his fingertips along Oikawa’s jaw, then let his hand fall, stroking lightly over the side of Oikawa’s neck just to see his own blues and greens appear on his soulmate’s skin, to feel the energy on his own skin as Oikawa’s skin left another layer of color on his fingers. Oikawa shivered beneath his touch, opened his mouth to say something, and -

Music erupted from Iwaizumi’s pocket. The two jumped apart in surprise, and Iwaizumi scrambled for his phone. As he pulled it out and glanced at the screen to see who was calling, Oikawa’s eyes widened as he recognized the song.

“Is that...that song from that Lego movie?” Oikawa demanded incredulously.

“Hayato changed the ringtone for when he calls and I haven’t figured out how to change it back. Could be worse. It used to be that horrible recorder version of ‘My Heart Will Go On,’” Iwaizumi grumbled as he answered the phone. “Hayato, why are you calling me?” There was a pause as Iwaizumi listened, then he glanced at Oikawa and said, “No, you and Daishou get some sleep. I won’t be coming by after all. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?” Oikawa heard enthusiastic protests as Iwaizumi pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up.

“So,” Oikawa began as he picked up the last few volleyballs and dropped them into the bin. He turned to Iwaizumi with a wicked smirk twisting his lips. “If anyone changes your ringtone, you can’t change it back?” Iwaizumi eyed him warily.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned. Oikawa just grinned.

 


	6. Epilogue: Ocean

“Hajime! Come out here and explain what’s so important you just hung up on me last night!” Yamagata shouted, pounding his fist against the door to Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s room. There was a muffled complaint, some scuffling, and then Iwaizumi opened the door. Yamagata glared up at him and opened his mouth to continue to lecture his best friend for hanging up on him, then froze, jaw hanging slack. Iwaizumi had answered the door shirtless, with streaks of varying shades of turquoise standing out against his dark skin.

“Is that Yamagata? Make him go away,” Oikawa’s voice complained. Yamagata glanced past Iwaizumi and saw Oikawa half sitting up, his hair tousled and what skin was visible above the blanket still draped over him was stained with Iwaizumi’s darker colors. It occurred to Yamagata that Oikawa was in Iwaizumi’s bed, and Oikawa appeared to have seized Iwaizumi's phone and was messing with it. Yamagata returned his attention to his best friend. 

“I forgive you for hanging up on me. You obviously had much more important people to do,” Yamagata announced. “I expect a complete explanation later, or I’ll send Akaashi the video I took of you and Daishou kissing like he wants me to.”

“You didn’t take a video,” Iwaizumi protested. “Did you?” Yamagata grinned and shrugged.

“I guess you’ll find out if you don’t tell me what I want to know,” he answered.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi agreed. “Lunch?” Yamagata nodded, a rather satisfied grin tugging at his lips as he turned away.

“You’re paying, too,” Yamagata called over his shoulder.

“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Apparently you’ve got your soulmate for that now,” Yamagata countered, not bothering to look back this time. He heard Iwaizumi sputter, then retreat into the room and slam the door. Yamagata hummed to himself as he made his way back to his own room. When he got there, Daishou yawned and peered out from the blanket nest on his bed. “I win the bet,” Yamagata announced. “You have to find somewhere else to be next weekend. I’m going to call Taichi and tell him he can come and stay with me.”

“I hate you,” Daishou decided, burrowing back into the heap of blankets. When he spoke, his voice was muffled by the fabric. “How’d you know they would make up and work things out overnight?”

“Hajime had to have been doing something very interesting for him to suddenly decide he wasn’t coming here after all last night,” Yamagata replied, grabbing his phone from his desk and pulling up Kawanishi’s number. “I figured he must be with Oikawa, and it must be going well.”

“You cheated,” Daishou complained.

“I used my expertise,” Yamagata countered. Daishou hissed in distaste, then fell silent, apparently deciding to ignore his roommate instead of continuing the discussion.

* * *

Back in their room, Iwaizumi leaned against the door and listened to Yamagata’s retreating footsteps, making sure his best friend was actually leaving before he turned his attention to Oikawa, who was watching him with amusement and something more fierce in his eyes.

“If you’re meeting him for lunch, you should rest while you can,” Oikawa advised. Iwaizumi found himself eyeing the patches of Oikawa’s skin that weren’t yet covered by Iwaizumi’s colors.

“Whatever you say,” Iwaizumi shrugged as he crossed the room, leaning over Oikawa and kissing him slowly. Oikawa hummed and settled back against the pillow, pulling Iwaizumi onto the bed beside him.

“You’re so agreeable the morning after, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, burying his face in Oikawa’s neck. “You talk too much.”

“I talk just the right amount, or I wouldn’t be your soulmate,” Oikawa countered. Iwaizumi didn’t have anything to say to that, so he settled for kissing Oikawa again instead. Oikawa hummed with satisfaction. He glanced over at Iwaizumi's phone, which he had put in as close to the same place Iwaizumi had left it as he could, as though he hadn't just changed his ringtone on his soulmate's phone so it would play "I'm Yours" every time Oikawa called or texted. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know what Iwaizumi and Oikawa got up to between chapter 5 and the epilogue, check out Radiant - Whispers in the Dark by Don'tMindMeDear

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Radiant - Whispers in the Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960945) by [DontMindMeDear (JustANerd)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustANerd/pseuds/DontMindMeDear)




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